


Dawn

by starswholisten



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, minor ACOWAR spoilers but not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-11
Updated: 2017-05-11
Packaged: 2018-10-30 16:28:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10880592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starswholisten/pseuds/starswholisten
Summary: Nesta and Cassian spend a lazy morning together.





	Dawn

**Author's Note:**

> I have my hardest exam tomorrow and yet here we are. *shrugs*

Dawn was only just beginning to crest over the horizon, but both were awake already - Cassian because he was used to his internal clock waking him at the earliest hours of the morning, and Nesta because she’d never truly fallen asleep last night. Her nightmares had been particularly bad, and all she wanted was to be conscious enough to know she was in their bed, in his arms, both of them safe from the rest of the world.

Neither had spoken yet, though both knew the other was awake. Cassian was perfectly content to watch Nesta as she lightly traced the tattoos on his chest with her pointer finger, her breathing even, his wings surrounding them in a cocoon of warmth.

“How does it feel?"

Her voice broke their peaceful silence, but Cassian didn’t mind. Nesta continued to trace a trail of his tattoos from one shoulder to the other.

“Why, are you thinking about getting one?” Cassian mused.

Nesta shrugged, still watching the path she traced with her finger. “I just want to know if it hurts."

Cassian was silent for a moment, considering her, his eyes tracing paths from her jaw to her golden brown hair, mussed from the pillows, to her pointed ears beneath. “It feels,” he started, pausing when Nesta finally looked up at him, the grey-blue of her eyes blazing with curiosity, and he fumbled his words momentarily.

“It feels like you would expect,” he began again, brushing a lock of her hair behind her ear. “In some ways. It stings, it tickles. It feels painful at times. But,” Nesta looked back down to his chest, as if she would be able to see the places where it would hurt, as if she was determined to take that hurt away. Cassian’s heart swelled. “But what hurts more is the … experience. It’s like… etching your emotions on your skin for the world to see."

At that, Nesta jolted her head up, tilting it slightly in an unasked question. Cassian met her blazing gaze, that unending fire behind the ice, as she waited for him to explain.

He reached for her hand and held it lightly against his chest. “Each swirl,” he said, “represents a fallen Illyrian soldier. A tribute to the males and females under my command who have died.” Nesta broke their gaze and looked back to his tattoos, tracing a swirl toward the middle of his chest with two fingers. A salute. Cassian still remembered the name of the soldier that particular swirl represented. He remembered them all.

“The lines,” he continued, watching her closely, “represent those I have killed in battle.” There were many, many lines on his chest, and Nesta seemed to realize this. Overwhelmed, she placed her palm flat against him, right above his heart, and Cassian felt her empathy radiate across their bond. She knew how that felt, at least in some ways, with a power that could kill hundreds in one blow. No matter how essential her kills had been in the War, Cassian knew she felt them deeply. As she did everything.

“And the more intricate details,” Cassian led her hand away from his heart reluctantly and toward one of his favorite embellishments. She brushed it lightly as he continued, “are for the loved ones I have lost.” He paused. “This one was for Rhysand’s mother."

“It’s beautiful,” Nesta whispered.

Cassian kissed her head and she looked up again to meet his gaze. The blazing fire in her eyes had turned to something deeper, more emotional. “But why only for the dead?"

The question took Cassian aback, and Nesta noticed, shifting against the sheets to reposition herself so that her face was level with his. "Why not the warriors you've saved, the ones you've trained? The ones you're proud of?" She twirled a strand of his dark hair around her finger, watching it with a blazing intensity. "Why not the loved ones who live?"

Cassian stared and stared at her, and when he didn't answer, she met his gaze again. He saw it all written in her eyes - knew and understood the female in his arms better than anyone, better than himself. A female who never let them see how deeply she felt, who wondered at how he could show those emotions so prominently etched into the very skin above his heart. And yet she wanted him to explain it, she wanted to know if this was a way to express all of those emotions without words, in a way she could understand. For the ones who still lived, the ones she still struggled to open up to, the ones she loved so fiercely that even if she didn't tell them, they still knew.

He removed his hand from hers and placed it instead on her face, cupping her jaw gently, and pressed a light kiss against her mouth. "I've never thought about that," he whispered against her lips. Cassian pulled back to study her face. “But I don’t think there’s enough room for all of them."

“Sure there is,” she protested, her fingers finding spots that were vacant, where no ink stained the skin. She pointed to one empty spot. “Rhysand,” she said, and moved her hand to another. “Azriel.” She gestured to three more spots. “Feyre. Mor. Amren.”

Finally, her hand landed right above his heart. “Me."

Cassian smiled. “Mmm, but sweetheart,” he murmured softly, lifting her chin with a finger to look at him. “There’s no way I could fit one there that’s big enough to show how much I love you."

She laughed, but gave him a quick kiss on the lips. “It doesn’t have to be the biggest. It can be the same size as the others."

“Wouldn’t feel right,” he mumbled into her hair.

“You’re insufferable."

“And you’re beautiful,” he answered, and she rolled her eyes. Cassian stroked her arm and met her eyes again. “But honestly. No one has ever… asked me about them before.” He paused, taking in the concern in Nesta’s eyes, the anger that burned there, because no one had ever cared enough to ask him such a simple question. He wanted to laugh at how quickly she could get fired up about something so trivial. Instead, he kissed her and said, “Thank you."

“Mmmm,” was her only response as she snuggled into his chest, her warmth radiating through his body. Nesta was silent for a moment before she spoke again. “Take me to get one."

It wasn’t a question, of course - but rather a demand, a soft one, in that very _Nesta_ way of hers. Cassian smiled. “Of course, sweetheart."


End file.
